


A Boyfriend in Need

by MissDavis



Series: Consolation Prizes [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 11:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDavis/pseuds/MissDavis
Summary: John's in medical school now, but it's Sherlock who's taking care of him today.





	A Boyfriend in Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [obviouslySherlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslySherlock/gifts), [smollsherl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smollsherl/gifts).



> A ficlet written as part of [221B-Consolation Fest](https://221b-consolation.tumblr.com/), from the prompts from [obviouslySherlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslySherlock): _How about some unilock or teenlock?_ and [ smollsherl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smollsherl): _Soldier John, coming back home to sherlock!!! Orrr John is sick and sherlock is taking care of him_. I didn't get the soldier part in, but this is Sherlock and John a year after John has graduated and gone off to medical school, while Sherlock is still in university. Set in the U.S. in the same world as my fic [Full Court Press](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989544/chapters/11461792) so I didn't have to imagine new versions of them.

Sherlock was teaching himself how to cook scrambled eggs when the door to the suite swung open and Anderson and Tay walked in. 

"Sherlock! What the hell?" Tay said, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it toward the living room. "Why weren't you at practice?"

Anderson dropped his backpack onto the floor and sniffed. "And why are you in our dorm making eggs?"

"Mm, I love eggs!" Tay announced.

"Keep your voice down," Sherlock hissed, and raised his spatula up as a warning toward Tay. He was pleased to see him back off, despite the six-inch height advantage he had. "These are for John."

"John? He's here? Is it his spring break or something? Do they get spring break in med school? I really love eggs."

"No." Sherlock turned back to the pan and poked at the liquidy eggs, wondering how long this was supposed to take. "He's had his wisdom teeth out this morning so I brought him back here to take care of him." A year and a half ago he never would have imagined saying such a sentence, but now taking care of John when he was in pain seemed as natural as breathing or dribbling a basketball.

"Why'd you bring him here?" Anderson asked. "You've got your own room. And how did you get in here?"

Sherlock ignored the last question; Anderson would realize sooner or later that his keycard was missing. "I don't have a kitchen in my room. He's only allowed to eat soft foods but I know he'll be hungry when he wakes up."

"Where is he?" 

"Asleep. So be quiet."

"No!" Tay said. "Wake him up so we can say hi! How long is he staying?"

"He's not staying here unless he wants to sleep on the couch. Whose room did you put him in?" Anderson started down the hall toward the bedrooms.

"Stop! Do not wake him up!" Sherlock tried to yell without raising his voice too much. "You two need to get out of here, you're too loud." He put down the spatula and dug in his pocket for his wallet. "Here, take my bank card. There's a new Italian restaurant on the corner of Main and State Street. I drove by it today on the way back from the dentist. Go see how it is so I know if I should take John there once he can eat real food."

"We're not going out to dinner," Tay said. "We're supposed to meet everyone else in the dining hall at six."

"How did you drive by it? You don't have a license."

Sherlock ignored Anderson again. He slotted his card back into his wallet and pulled out another one. "Take the whole team with you. Use this card."

Anderson walked back into the kitchen and took it from him. "This is not your name. Is it your dad's?"

Sherlock scoffed. "No, why would I take my father's bank card? It's my brother's. I nicked it when I was home over the summer. It will work here, don't worry."

A small crashing noise sounded from down the short hallway to the bedrooms, then the door to the first room opened.

"John!" Tay shouted, while Anderson whined, "Why did you put him in my bedroom?"

"He needed your extra-short mattress," Tay said and bopped Anderson on the shoulder, laughing at his own joke.

Sherlock snatched Mycroft's card away from Anderson and stuck it back into his wallet, then slid it into his pocket. He glanced at the pan full of eggs. He'd hoped to have them ready before John woke up, but he hadn't counted on having to deal with these two idiots.

John emerged from Anderson's room and shuffled down the hall, one hand trailing along the wall, his socks slipping on the tile floor. The anesthesia must have mostly worn off, because he was steadier on his feet than he had been earlier, though he still lacked the easy gracefulness of movement he usually displayed. He reached the entryway to the kitchen and stood blinking down at the blue ice pack he held in his left hand.

"You need more ice?" Sherlock asked, lowering his eyes to try to catch John's gaze. 

John nodded and lifted his head. Both sides of his face were swollen, worse than when Sherlock had driven him home a few hours ago, though his eyes were much clearer than they had been. He looked at Sherlock for a second, then moved his gaze to Anderson and Tay. His swollen cheeks started to shift, then he brought a hand up to his face. "Can't smi..." he began, barely moving his mouth.

"You heard him. Stop making him smile." Sherlock grabbed the spatula again and waved it at Tay and Anderson. "Get out of here, both of you."

"Shhhher, don't," John said. He threw the ice pack toward the sink, missing so it landed on the floor. Definitely not in top form. 

Sherlock dropped the spatula into the pan and crossed the room toward John, worried that the wobble in his legs had increased now that he wasn't keeping one hand on the wall as he walked. "You okay?"

Tay stepped backward, giving Sherlock and John room to stand together. "Wow, man, you look like shit. What are they doing to you in medical school?"

"He just had dental surgery, Tay." Sherlock turned to face him, slipping an arm around John's back as he did so. John leaned heavily enough against him that Sherlock had to brace himself on the cabinets so they didn't both topple over. 

"Yeah and he looks terrible. I got my wisdom teeth pulled out two summers ago and it didn't hurt all." Tay picked up the spatula and turned to the skillet. "I can cook these for you. You need to add some flavor in with them, though. No one wants just plain eggs."

"No, don't add anything. He can only eat soft foods."

"Soft foods, sure, that doesn't mean no taste. Need to add a little spice." He opened up the cabinet closest to the stove.

"Don't add anything," Anderson said. "They're eggs. They're supposed to be bland."

"Ah, we don't have any spices anyway." Tay banged the cabinet shut. "Just salt and pepper."

"Want ice cream," John said. He tipped his head onto Sherlock's shoulder for a brief moment before straightening up with a wince.

Careful not to touch his face, Sherlock guided him so John stood in front of him and could lean back against his chest. He echoed John's sigh of contentment once they were comfortably nestled against each other.

"Ugh, you two," Anderson said. "Never could keep your hands off each other. I'm taking a shower."

"Jealous," Sherlock murmured into John's hair as Anderson stomped off down the hall toward his room.

"Blood," John whispered.

"There might be some blood on your pillowcase," Sherlock shouted after Anderson. "From when he took the gauze out. Sorry!" 

Tay laughed. "You two really are terrible. You can put him in my bed if you need to. Hey, these eggs are pretty good even without any flavor."

"Go ahead and eat them. He wants ice cream apparently." 

John nodded and Sherlock tightened his grip around his waist, wishing he hadn't had the surgery so he could spin him around and kiss him instead. Instead he kissed the back of his head and then gently eased himself away. "Go sit on the sofa and I'll get you some ice cream."

"No, I want a popsicle," John said. "Orange."

"Orange is the worst flavor." Sherlock led him over into the living room, kicking Anderson's backpack and Tay's sweatshirt out of the way so John didn't trip. He helped him settle on the sofa with a fleece blanket emblazoned with the Barts Bloodhound mascot, then went back into the kitchen. There weren't any popsicles—ice lollies, he should call them by their proper name—in the freezer, but he did find a fresh ice pack. That was practically the only thing he could rely on his teammates to always have in stock in their kitchen. 

He sighed and pulled it out of the freezer, grabbing a kitchen towel to cover it. Maybe he could convince Tay to run over to the student center and buy them some ice cream or lollies. He would do it himself, but he didn't want to waste a minute of the time he had with John, even if the circumstances were far from ideal. Maybe tomorrow he'd feel better, and Sherlock could give him the welcome back greeting that he deserved.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to read another 120K words with these characters, be my guest. [Full Court Press](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989544/chapters/11461792) There isn't really too much actual basketball if you're not into that.


End file.
